Heading for Some Moisture
Let's be frank for a moment: I feel like shit. I feel like a tired and wadded up piece of Kleenex, one of the dozens I've used up in the last few days since I came down with my cold that immediately turned into a sinus infection. A sinus infection that makes me sound like I'm setting myself for a joke when I moan aloud that my face hurts. (Yeah? Cuz it's killin' me!)
These last few months have just been a bit...much. The death of my grandpa, the roller-coaster of worry and optimism with my dad's hospital stay, and then his death, and everything in between has left me just....tired. And dry. It is the great thing about daily life with small children, yet also the very brutal thing about daily life with small children. Yes, you can lose your grief and laugh and smile at their darling ways and the cute things that pop out of their mouths, but you also are forced into forgetting your grief, or at least putting it on indefinite hold, while you meet their never-ending demands for juice, kisses for boo-boos, trips to the park, juice, bedtime stories, breakfast, lunch and dinner and always, always, more juice.
I feel very dry, both inside and out. Nothing left for tears, and not enough lotion to cure this tightness in my face. Yes, I have a cold, and yes it's that time of the month, too, which brings with it yet another zit on my once-nice complexion, and then there are the near-constant twinges of back pain from either my lower back or my shoulder blade (they take turns), and that thing that happens when I'm rushed or anxious with the kids (and really, when am I NOT?), feeling like I need to gasp for air like a fish out of water -- pant, pant, pant. Oh, and today my right eyelid has a very relaxing and attractive twitch, too, which has lasted for about the last 12 hours.
God, what an old lady! I was thinking today, that yes, I finally feel my age. At least my age. All those years of laughing with girlfriends: "oh, I'm 34, but I feel exactly the same as always!" "36? Last time I checked I was still 27!" But today, ladies? Today, I feel every second of my 38 years. And then some. I'm feeling about, oh, 43. And it is not good.
I know that all this aridity of the soul is not because I live in a very dry near-desert climate. But I'm hoping, hoping, that when we arrive in the Portland area in a few days, that some of that greenness and wetness and moisture will have some effect. It has to. Traveling from the land of record-low rainfall to the land where they've had record-high rainfall this winter has got to be good. And we have plans to go to this place:
Nice, huh? That's Multnomah Falls, in Oregon. Yes, there are in-laws waiting there too, but I like my in-laws and now is not the time or place to mention that my first-ever panic attack happened when visiting their home for the first time. I need a change of scenery so badly, so badly. I hope this little jaunt up to the Pacific Northwest does the trick, at least for a while.
These last few months have just been a bit...much. The death of my grandpa, the roller-coaster of worry and optimism with my dad's hospital stay, and then his death, and everything in between has left me just....tired. And dry. It is the great thing about daily life with small children, yet also the very brutal thing about daily life with small children. Yes, you can lose your grief and laugh and smile at their darling ways and the cute things that pop out of their mouths, but you also are forced into forgetting your grief, or at least putting it on indefinite hold, while you meet their never-ending demands for juice, kisses for boo-boos, trips to the park, juice, bedtime stories, breakfast, lunch and dinner and always, always, more juice.
I feel very dry, both inside and out. Nothing left for tears, and not enough lotion to cure this tightness in my face. Yes, I have a cold, and yes it's that time of the month, too, which brings with it yet another zit on my once-nice complexion, and then there are the near-constant twinges of back pain from either my lower back or my shoulder blade (they take turns), and that thing that happens when I'm rushed or anxious with the kids (and really, when am I NOT?), feeling like I need to gasp for air like a fish out of water -- pant, pant, pant. Oh, and today my right eyelid has a very relaxing and attractive twitch, too, which has lasted for about the last 12 hours.
God, what an old lady! I was thinking today, that yes, I finally feel my age. At least my age. All those years of laughing with girlfriends: "oh, I'm 34, but I feel exactly the same as always!" "36? Last time I checked I was still 27!" But today, ladies? Today, I feel every second of my 38 years. And then some. I'm feeling about, oh, 43. And it is not good.
I know that all this aridity of the soul is not because I live in a very dry near-desert climate. But I'm hoping, hoping, that when we arrive in the Portland area in a few days, that some of that greenness and wetness and moisture will have some effect. It has to. Traveling from the land of record-low rainfall to the land where they've had record-high rainfall this winter has got to be good. And we have plans to go to this place:
Nice, huh? That's Multnomah Falls, in Oregon. Yes, there are in-laws waiting there too, but I like my in-laws and now is not the time or place to mention that my first-ever panic attack happened when visiting their home for the first time. I need a change of scenery so badly, so badly. I hope this little jaunt up to the Pacific Northwest does the trick, at least for a while. Labels: The Stuff of Life
posted by Kelly at 9:37 PM
3 Comments:
This comment has been removed by the author.
Are you back from Oregon? How was your trip? Are you feeling any better?
2:27 PM
Just popped over from Genevieve's blog, so sorry to hear about your Dad. It will take a long time to heal but you'll get there. Hang on in there and share plenty of hugs with your children (and anyone else who'll let you!)
Julia
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